I think the kids got into my blog. Date-time stamps awry, juvenile brassiere humor, tell-all tales of my inability to recognize my own children....yeah, I think I'll blame the kids, all right.
Guess what? Father's Day happened a couple of days ago. I'm telling you that in case you live under a rock and missed the outpouring of love and affection for fathers and husbands that was going on all over the blogosphere. And what did I post about on Sunday? Naked knitting....I'm so embarrassed...
But we did celebrate here. The gift I ordered for Larry didn't show up in time (and I can't even say what it is, since he might read my blog for once and find out); so there I was in Target at 9 PM Saturday with the rest of the gift-giving losers trying to find a card and some reasonable facsimile of a Father's Day present. I ended up buying him a bag of Hershey's kisses (cherry-filled) and a cellphone charger for the car.
This isn't the first time that my holiday shopping abilities have proven to be markedly deficient.
What bothers me is that my birthday is coming up on Saturday; and with this gift-giving debacle fresh in Larry's mind, I'm not expecting much. Maybe I should just eat his candy now and be done with it.
It's funny, you know, as a parent, that something that seems like an excellent idea in April can really come back to bite you in June. Something, say, like informing your teen daughter that she needs to finish her freshman year schoolwork before the last week of June, or she won't be attending the high school work camp with her youth group as she had planned. You know, the work camp that is like a week-long slumber party, with fun activities in the evening and a mid-week visit to a fantastic water park....
Light a fire under her, I thought. Give her some incentive!
So, now? I am faced with the prospect of a very unhappy young woman sitting home all next week with her least favorite person in the world (um, that would be me) and her ferociously hated siblings while her father and older brother go off to have a fun time with all the other kids. I was getting chest pains last night just thinking about it. Woo hoo! Happy Birthday to me! Anyone need a mother with 4 kids in tow to visit next week?
Showing posts with label home schooling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label home schooling. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
We're All Patient, So Shut Up Already...
The comments are flying fast and furious for this post over at Derfwad Manor, and no wonder. Mrs. G has written an eloquent piece on why she ended up homeschooling her 2 children, and people are falling all over themselves telling her either
A) thanks for putting that better than I could (that would be all her homeschooling readers)
or
B) you must be so patient to homeschool your kids (that would be the, um, uninitiated saying that, of course).
Last I checked, none of us has to pass an exam measuring how much patience we have with our children before we file that homeschooling paperwork. And it's a good thing, too.
Tell me, how many of you with children would have had the patience, BK (before kids), to put up with even a small percentage of what you tolerate on a daily basis now: the whining, the fighting, the mess, the poop? Almost none of you, I'm willing to bet. Yet here you are, doing it, and you haven't killed any of your offspring yet. Congratulations! We're all incredibly patient!
Of course, people think home schoolers need more patience than the average parent because they picture us sitting with the kids for hours and hours, going over worksheets and assignments. But most of us don't do that. Instead, we create an environment that encourages kids to read and to think (less screen time, more books); and we give them time to play and create (craft sticks, legos, you name it), mostly on their own or with each other. We make lots of homeschooling friends, too, and meet up with them at parks in the afternoon, or we arrange homeschooling drama clubs or tennis lessons. Believe me, you don't need a lot of extra patience to sit around and chat with other homeschooling moms while your kids are playing with their kids.
Oh, yeah, and we do make the kids do their math pages. Around here, that doesn't take patience; it takes chocolate. My children are easy to bribe.
People also think we need an extraordinary amount of patience because we are around our kids for more hours each day. It's true, there is only so much kid-parent interaction that any mere mortal needs/can take, no matter how much available time there is. So the homeschooling parent solves this problem of too much togetherness by saying "Go play" or "Go read" to his/her child when he/she has had enough; or the child sequesters himself behind a couch with a good book, because his mother has threatened to inflict household chores upon him if she hears his voice one more time before dinner. And you know what? We don't feel bad about that. We have no quality time worries, because the sheer quantity of time we have with our kids ensures that there will be a few minutes of quality per day in there.
Well, most days. The other days are simply hopeless.
Last but not least, outsiders think we need extra patience in order to settle sibling disagreements all day long. But I have a theory, based on observation of both my family and the families of schooled children. Siblings need to fight a certain amount of time each day. No matter what. So, if they've been at school all day, they will make up for lost time by starting in on each other as soon as they get home. In our family, we try to get all the sibling fights out of the way in the morning, so that we can have a peaceful afternoon. We're efficient, that way. Either way, though, the parent (homeschooling or not) suffers for approximately the same amount of time each day. I think that this is what is meant in Genesis by the words "...in pain you will bring forth children..." Believe me, I would rather go through labor than listen to my kids bicker on a rainy afternoon.
Homeschooling isn't perfect; but neither are any of the other educational choices for our children. So if you are going to spout nonsense about how I must be so patient with my children in order to home school (and, really, if you read this blog, you must know that's ridiculous), then I am going to praise you for how patient you are in dealing with the various people in the school bureaucracies, and with the PTA, and with all the gift wrap/chocolate/citrus sales you have to participate in.
Pick your poison, is what I say. Sometimes it's six of one, half a dozen of the other...
A) thanks for putting that better than I could (that would be all her homeschooling readers)
or
B) you must be so patient to homeschool your kids (that would be the, um, uninitiated saying that, of course).
Last I checked, none of us has to pass an exam measuring how much patience we have with our children before we file that homeschooling paperwork. And it's a good thing, too.
Tell me, how many of you with children would have had the patience, BK (before kids), to put up with even a small percentage of what you tolerate on a daily basis now: the whining, the fighting, the mess, the poop? Almost none of you, I'm willing to bet. Yet here you are, doing it, and you haven't killed any of your offspring yet. Congratulations! We're all incredibly patient!
Of course, people think home schoolers need more patience than the average parent because they picture us sitting with the kids for hours and hours, going over worksheets and assignments. But most of us don't do that. Instead, we create an environment that encourages kids to read and to think (less screen time, more books); and we give them time to play and create (craft sticks, legos, you name it), mostly on their own or with each other. We make lots of homeschooling friends, too, and meet up with them at parks in the afternoon, or we arrange homeschooling drama clubs or tennis lessons. Believe me, you don't need a lot of extra patience to sit around and chat with other homeschooling moms while your kids are playing with their kids.
Oh, yeah, and we do make the kids do their math pages. Around here, that doesn't take patience; it takes chocolate. My children are easy to bribe.
People also think we need an extraordinary amount of patience because we are around our kids for more hours each day. It's true, there is only so much kid-parent interaction that any mere mortal needs/can take, no matter how much available time there is. So the homeschooling parent solves this problem of too much togetherness by saying "Go play" or "Go read" to his/her child when he/she has had enough; or the child sequesters himself behind a couch with a good book, because his mother has threatened to inflict household chores upon him if she hears his voice one more time before dinner. And you know what? We don't feel bad about that. We have no quality time worries, because the sheer quantity of time we have with our kids ensures that there will be a few minutes of quality per day in there.
Well, most days. The other days are simply hopeless.
Last but not least, outsiders think we need extra patience in order to settle sibling disagreements all day long. But I have a theory, based on observation of both my family and the families of schooled children. Siblings need to fight a certain amount of time each day. No matter what. So, if they've been at school all day, they will make up for lost time by starting in on each other as soon as they get home. In our family, we try to get all the sibling fights out of the way in the morning, so that we can have a peaceful afternoon. We're efficient, that way. Either way, though, the parent (homeschooling or not) suffers for approximately the same amount of time each day. I think that this is what is meant in Genesis by the words "...in pain you will bring forth children..." Believe me, I would rather go through labor than listen to my kids bicker on a rainy afternoon.
Homeschooling isn't perfect; but neither are any of the other educational choices for our children. So if you are going to spout nonsense about how I must be so patient with my children in order to home school (and, really, if you read this blog, you must know that's ridiculous), then I am going to praise you for how patient you are in dealing with the various people in the school bureaucracies, and with the PTA, and with all the gift wrap/chocolate/citrus sales you have to participate in.
Pick your poison, is what I say. Sometimes it's six of one, half a dozen of the other...
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Type Suitable Title Here
I used all my 50% off coupons at Michaels' yesterday - this activity involved purchasing only one item at a time, walking with it out to my car, walking back in, purchasing the next one....seems silly, right? But I saved $6.25 for just 15 minutes worth of effort, which translates into earning $25 an hour. Without taxes. And I got some very nice wool yarn for $2.50 a skein.
Hey, it makes me happy.
Yesterday afternoon, I tried to get out of pushing Susie around the neighborhood on her tricycle by running into the house and telling her that I'd be "right back." I figured she would wander off to play at the tot lot with the other kids. 20 minutes later, Anna reported that Susie was still sitting there on her little pink tricycle, trusting that her mommy would come back as she had promised. Makes me feel sort of bad for forgetting all about her, you know?
Perhaps I should finally invest in one of those trikes with the long handle to push by. I always thought that the people pushing those expensive contraptions around the block were money-wasting idiots; but now I realize that buying one just might save me on chiropractic bills. Raising little ones is a younger person's game, it turns out.
At 5:30 this evening (that is, a mere 15 hours before Easter Mass) Anna announced that her Easter outfit was not at all satisfactory. You know, the outfit I spent all last Saturday afternoon taking her to stores to find, the one she loved, and that I decided was just barely long enough to be acceptable. But it turns out that there is a shoe issue. Isn't there always? Heels versus flats....you don't need the details. Suffice it to say that today she balled up the dress, shoved it into a bag with the new shoes, and handed it to me, saying, with a sob, "I can't wear these tomorrow."
I don't know when it became her job to make me feel lousy, but she certainly is good at it.
Larry and I took the younger 4 on a forced march through the woods today. (Why? To keep them from driving us crazy at home, that's why.) They did all right until it started to rain. Brian totally freaked out because he was getting wet. As Larry said, "What is wrong with him?" We hiked damply back to the car (well, Susie was on Larry's shoulders), getting lost only once. And Brian didn't melt. There was a slight crisis in the car on the way home: I had brought only 3 granola bars as provisions, so Rachel and Susie had to share one. Did I mention it was only a 5-minute drive? It felt way longer. But no one starved to death, I promise.
Where was I? Oh, yes, Larry took me out to dinner tonight. We shared a burrito, and then he bought me a kids' size hot cocoa at Starbucks. Big spenders, that's us. And then, as if that weren't enough, Larry bought me a book at B&N - Alan King's Great Jewish Joke Book. The cashier was a little put out when I presented my homeschooler's teacher discount card at the register. "We only give the discount for items actually used for homeschooling," he sniffed. But he gave in when I said, "That's right - we're studying ethnic humor." I guess he was too tired to argue. After all, we all know what happens when you mess with homeschoolers. (I'm linking to paragraphs 4 and 5 of that article - but I don't know how to link to just part of an article, so just skip the first part)(I mean, unless you want to read about California court decisions, then go right ahead).
Time to put some jelly beans in plastic eggs and hide them around the living room (the ones I don't eat, that is)...have a Happy Easter!
Hey, it makes me happy.
Yesterday afternoon, I tried to get out of pushing Susie around the neighborhood on her tricycle by running into the house and telling her that I'd be "right back." I figured she would wander off to play at the tot lot with the other kids. 20 minutes later, Anna reported that Susie was still sitting there on her little pink tricycle, trusting that her mommy would come back as she had promised. Makes me feel sort of bad for forgetting all about her, you know?
Perhaps I should finally invest in one of those trikes with the long handle to push by. I always thought that the people pushing those expensive contraptions around the block were money-wasting idiots; but now I realize that buying one just might save me on chiropractic bills. Raising little ones is a younger person's game, it turns out.
At 5:30 this evening (that is, a mere 15 hours before Easter Mass) Anna announced that her Easter outfit was not at all satisfactory. You know, the outfit I spent all last Saturday afternoon taking her to stores to find, the one she loved, and that I decided was just barely long enough to be acceptable. But it turns out that there is a shoe issue. Isn't there always? Heels versus flats....you don't need the details. Suffice it to say that today she balled up the dress, shoved it into a bag with the new shoes, and handed it to me, saying, with a sob, "I can't wear these tomorrow."
I don't know when it became her job to make me feel lousy, but she certainly is good at it.
Larry and I took the younger 4 on a forced march through the woods today. (Why? To keep them from driving us crazy at home, that's why.) They did all right until it started to rain. Brian totally freaked out because he was getting wet. As Larry said, "What is wrong with him?" We hiked damply back to the car (well, Susie was on Larry's shoulders), getting lost only once. And Brian didn't melt. There was a slight crisis in the car on the way home: I had brought only 3 granola bars as provisions, so Rachel and Susie had to share one. Did I mention it was only a 5-minute drive? It felt way longer. But no one starved to death, I promise.
Where was I? Oh, yes, Larry took me out to dinner tonight. We shared a burrito, and then he bought me a kids' size hot cocoa at Starbucks. Big spenders, that's us. And then, as if that weren't enough, Larry bought me a book at B&N - Alan King's Great Jewish Joke Book. The cashier was a little put out when I presented my homeschooler's teacher discount card at the register. "We only give the discount for items actually used for homeschooling," he sniffed. But he gave in when I said, "That's right - we're studying ethnic humor." I guess he was too tired to argue. After all, we all know what happens when you mess with homeschoolers. (I'm linking to paragraphs 4 and 5 of that article - but I don't know how to link to just part of an article, so just skip the first part)(I mean, unless you want to read about California court decisions, then go right ahead).
Time to put some jelly beans in plastic eggs and hide them around the living room (the ones I don't eat, that is)...have a Happy Easter!
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Thankful For The Small Things
I'm thinking that it is hard for a woman to restrict both her food intake and her non-food purchases at the same time. I've lost another pound (thank you, yes, I do feel great, except for this gnawing feeling in my stomach); but I keep buying things online. Things that have been sitting on my Amazon wishlist for 6 months, say...and some more fun workbooks for the kids...and a bunch of educational CD's that put science to music I've been eyeing for years....
(I must say, that until you've learned about DNA to the tune of "Shortnin' Bread," you haven't really lived. This is why I home school.)
I haven't even hit the yarn sites yet; but I can feel it coming. Where do you buy your Cascade 220, Amy? I think I'll be ordering some next time I want a cookie.
You know what? Nothing to complain about today - I lost a pound, I got my 15-minute walk, only one kid wept through dinner, and my husband has not exposed me to a media firestorm of epic proportions. What's not to like about that?
(I must say, that until you've learned about DNA to the tune of "Shortnin' Bread," you haven't really lived. This is why I home school.)
I haven't even hit the yarn sites yet; but I can feel it coming. Where do you buy your Cascade 220, Amy? I think I'll be ordering some next time I want a cookie.
You know what? Nothing to complain about today - I lost a pound, I got my 15-minute walk, only one kid wept through dinner, and my husband has not exposed me to a media firestorm of epic proportions. What's not to like about that?
Saturday, March 08, 2008
Miscellaneous This and That
I started feeling worse and worse yesterday; so I attempted to take it easy around noontime by sitting in my beloved floral Ektorp and cuddling Susie in my lap. Unfortunately, she was emitting this constant whining sound that reminded me of nothing so much as a dentist's drill. (Why was she doing that? Ha! I know not why.) So I went up to bed (where Larry was already napping) and lay down (yes, we are both pathetic) and Susie followed me. Then she heard someone knocking on the front door, which resulted in her running downstairs to shout, "Mommy and Daddy are in the bed!" to whomever was at the door. Cool. As if our neighbors didn't already think we are a bit too frisky, what with the 6 kids and all...
How often do you think I get invited to a grown-ups only social event? Almost never? You're right! So it would stand to reason that I would be too sick to go yesterday evening to our neighbor's house where she was having a little farewell dinner party for another neighbor. A real dinner party, where you drink cocktails before the meal and sit at a table to eat your food and (if you're my husband) stay until midnight laughing and chatting with the other attendees (all grown-ups).
Not that I am jealous or anything...
And that cauliflower I managed to serve the kids on Friday? Made me sound pretty good, huh? It probably appeared to the casual reader that we always have a fresh steamed vegetable (with ketchup) at dinner. Wouldn't that be nice? But, in reality, it's usually just a bag of baby carrots thrown on the table as an afterthought (eat them or no dessert!), or some carrot and onion in whatever stir fry Theo has thrown together. Bagged salad makes an appearance every once in a while. The kids' favorite dressing - French, of course, because it has ketchup in it.
We do have a special family ritual here - every other week I buy the healthy veggies at the commissary, and then, 2 weeks later, after they have decomposed sufficiently, I throw most of them out. Sometimes I treat it as a homeschool science experiment by demonstrating to the kids what mold looks like (biology!). Or I can list it under earth science by calling it compost.
It's a learning lifestyle, that's what it is. Mostly the kids are learning how I waste good money on food we don't use. And I'm learning that you can lead a kid to cauliflower, but you can't make him eat (at least, not without a lot of ketchup).
If I were really blog-savvy, I would insert a YouTube video here of Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young singing, "Teach...your children well..." But, alas, I'm not blog-savvy; and Larry wants the computer. G'night, all!
How often do you think I get invited to a grown-ups only social event? Almost never? You're right! So it would stand to reason that I would be too sick to go yesterday evening to our neighbor's house where she was having a little farewell dinner party for another neighbor. A real dinner party, where you drink cocktails before the meal and sit at a table to eat your food and (if you're my husband) stay until midnight laughing and chatting with the other attendees (all grown-ups).
Not that I am jealous or anything...
And that cauliflower I managed to serve the kids on Friday? Made me sound pretty good, huh? It probably appeared to the casual reader that we always have a fresh steamed vegetable (with ketchup) at dinner. Wouldn't that be nice? But, in reality, it's usually just a bag of baby carrots thrown on the table as an afterthought (eat them or no dessert!), or some carrot and onion in whatever stir fry Theo has thrown together. Bagged salad makes an appearance every once in a while. The kids' favorite dressing - French, of course, because it has ketchup in it.
We do have a special family ritual here - every other week I buy the healthy veggies at the commissary, and then, 2 weeks later, after they have decomposed sufficiently, I throw most of them out. Sometimes I treat it as a homeschool science experiment by demonstrating to the kids what mold looks like (biology!). Or I can list it under earth science by calling it compost.
It's a learning lifestyle, that's what it is. Mostly the kids are learning how I waste good money on food we don't use. And I'm learning that you can lead a kid to cauliflower, but you can't make him eat (at least, not without a lot of ketchup).
If I were really blog-savvy, I would insert a YouTube video here of Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young singing, "Teach...your children well..." But, alas, I'm not blog-savvy; and Larry wants the computer. G'night, all!
Rain, Rain, Go Away...
For years, I've battled my kids' predilection to put ketchup on all comestibles. I've read Mrs. Pig's Bulk Buy to the little savages any number of times. To this day I refuse to help them put ketchup on their hotdogs, as I have no wish to aid and abet a culinary crime. And I blame my husband for not nipping this ketchup thing in the bud. If it were up to me, their virgin mouths would never have tasted anything but mustard on their frankfurters.
Anyway, dinner yesterday - baked beans, cauliflower, and salad. No meat, since I'm raising a bunch of Catholics who must be penitent on Fridays in Lent. This restriction makes them more whiny than remorseful, however, as they are used to having hotdogs with their baked beans. Susie, trying to make the best of a bad situation, asked for ketchup for her cauliflower. And, in a moment of weakness, I gave it to her.
You know what? She ate that cauliflower. She said it was, and I quote, "Yum." So, cauliflower and ketchup - go ahead and try it. It's the cuisine du jour. Yum.
I slept on the couch last night. There is only so much snoring one woman can take. I can sleep with regular, rhythmic snoring. It's listening to the "Snore....hold your breath for 15 seconds....loud SNORT....hold your breath...." routine that destroys sleep for me. Call me fussy, but when the person in the bed next to me isn't breathing? I don't find that restful.
It's Saturday, the day we either run around and get a lot of stuff done or else do something fun with the kids. And guess what? We're doing neither. Larry's sick, I've got some lousy head cold that is giving me a bad attitude, and it is pouring rain (cold rain) outside. Luckily, the teens are out of the house all day working a fundraiser (in the rain) for workcamp. I hate having them around on a bad day, because they make me feel worse.
Of course, having the little kids going stir-crazy in the house is no picnic, either. I just bribed them - if they would please leave me alone for 20 minutes, I would play UNO with them. Now they are all sitting at the dining room table (i.e., within earshot) bickering over how to deal out the cards. Good Lord, just kill me now.
I have to pull myself together. I was reminded last night that I am supposed to talk about homeschooling math materials at the curricula meeting today. I don't know what was going through my head when I promised to do that. Maybe I thought the weather would be springlike and none of us would be sick and that I would actually be able to find my math curricula materials in time. Wrong, wrong, and wrong. So I'm showing up with a headache and doped up on Sudafed and Tylenol, with nothing but my son's 6th-grade math workbook in my hands.
Hey, these new homeschooling moms need a dose of reality anyway. Let them see what being home with the kids every day can do to a person. That way they can go into this homeschooling thing with their eyes wide open. With terror. It gets their adrenaline pumping.
Anyway, dinner yesterday - baked beans, cauliflower, and salad. No meat, since I'm raising a bunch of Catholics who must be penitent on Fridays in Lent. This restriction makes them more whiny than remorseful, however, as they are used to having hotdogs with their baked beans. Susie, trying to make the best of a bad situation, asked for ketchup for her cauliflower. And, in a moment of weakness, I gave it to her.
You know what? She ate that cauliflower. She said it was, and I quote, "Yum." So, cauliflower and ketchup - go ahead and try it. It's the cuisine du jour. Yum.
I slept on the couch last night. There is only so much snoring one woman can take. I can sleep with regular, rhythmic snoring. It's listening to the "Snore....hold your breath for 15 seconds....loud SNORT....hold your breath...." routine that destroys sleep for me. Call me fussy, but when the person in the bed next to me isn't breathing? I don't find that restful.
It's Saturday, the day we either run around and get a lot of stuff done or else do something fun with the kids. And guess what? We're doing neither. Larry's sick, I've got some lousy head cold that is giving me a bad attitude, and it is pouring rain (cold rain) outside. Luckily, the teens are out of the house all day working a fundraiser (in the rain) for workcamp. I hate having them around on a bad day, because they make me feel worse.
Of course, having the little kids going stir-crazy in the house is no picnic, either. I just bribed them - if they would please leave me alone for 20 minutes, I would play UNO with them. Now they are all sitting at the dining room table (i.e., within earshot) bickering over how to deal out the cards. Good Lord, just kill me now.
I have to pull myself together. I was reminded last night that I am supposed to talk about homeschooling math materials at the curricula meeting today. I don't know what was going through my head when I promised to do that. Maybe I thought the weather would be springlike and none of us would be sick and that I would actually be able to find my math curricula materials in time. Wrong, wrong, and wrong. So I'm showing up with a headache and doped up on Sudafed and Tylenol, with nothing but my son's 6th-grade math workbook in my hands.
Hey, these new homeschooling moms need a dose of reality anyway. Let them see what being home with the kids every day can do to a person. That way they can go into this homeschooling thing with their eyes wide open. With terror. It gets their adrenaline pumping.
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
I Can Dream, Can't I?
It's about the mice today. Anna heard scrabbling in the ceiling above her bed - and considering she sleeps in the top bunk, she was a bit freaked out. For some reason Larry was not anxious to climb up into the attic to hunt rodents after a rough day at work (how rough? specifically, "sucky, but not too sucky," whatever the heck that means). Methinks he is losing some of that youthful energy that I so admired when I met him. But, being as that I am not exactly the sweet, energetic girl he married, I can scarcely complain.
Ah, Twix, how I love thee! Is there anything more glorious than having both extra Weight Watchers' points at the end of the week and a bag of Twix in the house? What a marvelous confluence of events! In fact, the only reason I am still awake is that I had to wait until my kids were asleep to break into my chocolate-y stash.
I'm trying to remember what made me happy before I had kids. I'm pretty sure it was something more exciting than a bag of candy.
We had a glorious spring day today, warm enough to sit out on the deck and bask in the sun. And I felt skinnier because I didn't need my long johns on underneath my jeans. Hey! That should take a couple of ounces off my weigh-in tomorrow - pass me some more Twix!
My best friend came over with her daughter; and while the girls played, she told me how she wasn't sure what she'd do with herself all day once all her kids were in school next year. And no, she wasn't joking. I told her I'd give her a list. Not that I fantasize about that or anything. But I do wonder whether, devoted homeschooler that I am, I'll suddenly do an about-face the year my youngest is old enough for kindergarten. "Hey, kids! Remember all that stuff I told you about school? Kidding! It's not that bad! Here's your lunch, have a great day, see ya later!"
Sigh. Yoga 3 days a week, knitting classes, catching up on all the photo editing and albums - and you? What would you do (or what do you do already) with 6 or 7 blessed hours every day, 5 days a week? Go ahead, make me weep...
Ah, Twix, how I love thee! Is there anything more glorious than having both extra Weight Watchers' points at the end of the week and a bag of Twix in the house? What a marvelous confluence of events! In fact, the only reason I am still awake is that I had to wait until my kids were asleep to break into my chocolate-y stash.
I'm trying to remember what made me happy before I had kids. I'm pretty sure it was something more exciting than a bag of candy.
We had a glorious spring day today, warm enough to sit out on the deck and bask in the sun. And I felt skinnier because I didn't need my long johns on underneath my jeans. Hey! That should take a couple of ounces off my weigh-in tomorrow - pass me some more Twix!
My best friend came over with her daughter; and while the girls played, she told me how she wasn't sure what she'd do with herself all day once all her kids were in school next year. And no, she wasn't joking. I told her I'd give her a list. Not that I fantasize about that or anything. But I do wonder whether, devoted homeschooler that I am, I'll suddenly do an about-face the year my youngest is old enough for kindergarten. "Hey, kids! Remember all that stuff I told you about school? Kidding! It's not that bad! Here's your lunch, have a great day, see ya later!"
Sigh. Yoga 3 days a week, knitting classes, catching up on all the photo editing and albums - and you? What would you do (or what do you do already) with 6 or 7 blessed hours every day, 5 days a week? Go ahead, make me weep...
Thursday, February 28, 2008
War is Hell
I swear, in all the years they have been alive, not one of my children has ever, of his/her own will, turned off a light. I'll go upstairs and find it devoid of people, yet with 3 bedroom lights, one hallway light, and one bathroom light, all on. I think it's all part of their NILE initiative - No Illumination Left Extinguished. Just a few people's effort to make their tiny corner of the world a little brighter....
And in this (bright) corner of the world, what makes the front page of major newspapers (print edition) are school redistricting fights. That's right, there's the war in Iraq; but there are the more important wars here at home, such as whose child gets to go to an AP school versus an IB school. Though these differences seem trivial to outsiders, they spark internecine violence, such as fistfights among parents at school bus stops (please, people, the children! Spare the children!). Irate homeowners storm the offices of local realtors, who made unkeepable promises regarding specific school districts. Longtime friends and neighbors stop speaking to each other. It's brother against brother, the north side of town against the south, angry mobs sniping at each other at neighborhood yard sales...
People wonder why I home school. I tell you, it's because I don't like to take sides. Can't we all just get along? And put something more newsworthy on the front pages of our newspapers? Geez, no wonder print is dead....
I sat next to yet another spinning fanatic at Knit Night yesterday evening. She looked normal, but then she started talking about her spinning wheel that she had bought in Vermont; and the woman on the other side of me chimed in about the wheel that she might just pick up in Poland (apparently the Stradivarius of spinning wheels lives there); and I realized I had entered the Twilight Zone. What's wrong with these people? Don't they realize that we live in way too rushed a society for them to sit there and spin wool into yarn, and then knit a sweater from it? I mean, by the time you're done, you've frozen to death, right?
It's now that point in the afternoon when the sound of my children's voices puts my teeth on edge. Anna is out babysitting (apparently, she is much nicer to other people's children than to ours) and Theo has decided he wants to get all this high school nonsense out of the way and is studying non-stop. David is busy trying to make some sort of astronaut diorama out of those little marshmallow Peeps and some tinfoil. (What is it with that kid, anyway?) But that still leaves Brian, Rachel, and Susie (piping shrilly away on her little plastic recorder) to drive me insane. My only hope is that our next-door neighbor's children come over and distract them. You'll just have to take my word for it, it's way easier to watch 6 kids than just 3. One of those paradoxes of parenthood.
Oh, and I'm starving. Not losing weight, though; just starving. We wouldn't want all this suffering to have a purpose or anything...
And in this (bright) corner of the world, what makes the front page of major newspapers (print edition) are school redistricting fights. That's right, there's the war in Iraq; but there are the more important wars here at home, such as whose child gets to go to an AP school versus an IB school. Though these differences seem trivial to outsiders, they spark internecine violence, such as fistfights among parents at school bus stops (please, people, the children! Spare the children!). Irate homeowners storm the offices of local realtors, who made unkeepable promises regarding specific school districts. Longtime friends and neighbors stop speaking to each other. It's brother against brother, the north side of town against the south, angry mobs sniping at each other at neighborhood yard sales...
People wonder why I home school. I tell you, it's because I don't like to take sides. Can't we all just get along? And put something more newsworthy on the front pages of our newspapers? Geez, no wonder print is dead....
I sat next to yet another spinning fanatic at Knit Night yesterday evening. She looked normal, but then she started talking about her spinning wheel that she had bought in Vermont; and the woman on the other side of me chimed in about the wheel that she might just pick up in Poland (apparently the Stradivarius of spinning wheels lives there); and I realized I had entered the Twilight Zone. What's wrong with these people? Don't they realize that we live in way too rushed a society for them to sit there and spin wool into yarn, and then knit a sweater from it? I mean, by the time you're done, you've frozen to death, right?
It's now that point in the afternoon when the sound of my children's voices puts my teeth on edge. Anna is out babysitting (apparently, she is much nicer to other people's children than to ours) and Theo has decided he wants to get all this high school nonsense out of the way and is studying non-stop. David is busy trying to make some sort of astronaut diorama out of those little marshmallow Peeps and some tinfoil. (What is it with that kid, anyway?) But that still leaves Brian, Rachel, and Susie (piping shrilly away on her little plastic recorder) to drive me insane. My only hope is that our next-door neighbor's children come over and distract them. You'll just have to take my word for it, it's way easier to watch 6 kids than just 3. One of those paradoxes of parenthood.
Oh, and I'm starving. Not losing weight, though; just starving. We wouldn't want all this suffering to have a purpose or anything...
Friday, February 22, 2008
The Eternal Miscellany of a Cluttered Mind
Larry and I did the teamwork thing this evening in order to get the Sudafed into Susie's mouth before bedtime. He held down her legs and arms; at the same time, I immobilized her head with one forearm while sticking the medicine syringe (lovingly) into her screaming mouth. We're quite good at this maneuver, having had much practice over the years. Which made me realize: soon I won't need this skill (and others like it) at all. In a few years there will be no screaming toddlers or babies to force into hard-to-buckle car seats (damn those 5-point harnesses!) or strollers. There will be no incredibly messy diapers to clean up, and we won't need syringes to administer medicine. In fact, all the skills that I have so painstakingly developed over the past 16 or so years will soon be completely irrelevant.
In other words, my iceberg is melting. And it's a frightening feeling. The only useful know-how I'll be left with will be some rudimentary knitting skills. That and a few bucks will get me a tall latte.
Speaking of knitting, I made the mistake on Wednesday of (brightly) announcing to my Stitch 'n' Bitch group that there would be a lunar eclipse that night! Silence. Everyone looked at me for a second, and then they continued talking to each other as if I had done nothing more than emit an embarrassingly loud belch. Apparently, knitters don't care much (as a group) about the moon. After all, there are no sheep there.
I got confused, you see; in homeschooling circles, a lunar eclipse is the conversational centerpiece for days surrounding the actual event. Everyone keeps their kids up late to watch, and if yours don't get to see it, they feel left out. You would think that an eclipse had never happened before, the way we carry on. It's almost pathetic.
But the eclipse was really cool.
Perusing the news online, I stumbled across Midlife Suicide Rises, Puzzling Researchers. Might I suggest that said researchers must be happy young people in their 20's and 30's, people who, I daresay, don't have teenagers yet? Because I, for one, am not puzzled by this phenomenon in the least. Just let one of those researchers get up morning after morning to look in a mirror that utterly betrays her and then go downstairs to face an adolescent who is only too happy to let her know what a loser she is, what with having been dumb enough to grow up and do boring things like work and pay bills and boss her kids around. Let this young chippy of a researcher do that, and then ask her if she is still puzzled. That is, if she isn't crying too hard to talk.
And, no, that above paragraph is not a cry for help. I plan to live long enough to see my children suffer at the hands of their teenagers. In fact, I smile just thinking about it.
In other words, my iceberg is melting. And it's a frightening feeling. The only useful know-how I'll be left with will be some rudimentary knitting skills. That and a few bucks will get me a tall latte.
Speaking of knitting, I made the mistake on Wednesday of (brightly) announcing to my Stitch 'n' Bitch group that there would be a lunar eclipse that night! Silence. Everyone looked at me for a second, and then they continued talking to each other as if I had done nothing more than emit an embarrassingly loud belch. Apparently, knitters don't care much (as a group) about the moon. After all, there are no sheep there.
I got confused, you see; in homeschooling circles, a lunar eclipse is the conversational centerpiece for days surrounding the actual event. Everyone keeps their kids up late to watch, and if yours don't get to see it, they feel left out. You would think that an eclipse had never happened before, the way we carry on. It's almost pathetic.
But the eclipse was really cool.
Perusing the news online, I stumbled across Midlife Suicide Rises, Puzzling Researchers. Might I suggest that said researchers must be happy young people in their 20's and 30's, people who, I daresay, don't have teenagers yet? Because I, for one, am not puzzled by this phenomenon in the least. Just let one of those researchers get up morning after morning to look in a mirror that utterly betrays her and then go downstairs to face an adolescent who is only too happy to let her know what a loser she is, what with having been dumb enough to grow up and do boring things like work and pay bills and boss her kids around. Let this young chippy of a researcher do that, and then ask her if she is still puzzled. That is, if she isn't crying too hard to talk.
And, no, that above paragraph is not a cry for help. I plan to live long enough to see my children suffer at the hands of their teenagers. In fact, I smile just thinking about it.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Love And Marriage
The plumber came to visit today; it almost felt like old times. Larry was thrilled when he pointed out that in order to fix the problem with our tub drain, he would have to cut a large hole in the freshly painted living room ceiling. Nothing like paying someone to trash your house...
Larry went jogging today. He exercises on all federal holidays, whether he needs it or not. That's a joke. I thought it was funny. Larry didn't. I told him he could make fun of my Weight Watchers recidivism, just to get even; but he was still mad. So I got mad that he was mad. Things went downhill from there.
Some days, "until death do us part" seems like a really long time.
And would you believe, he still wanted to hang up pictures together today? Is he trying to finish us off, or what? Why doesn't he just call the divorce lawyer and be done with it? I ignored him, so he hung up all that crap where he felt like it. And tomorrow, when he goes to work, I may just take the ugly things down. Because immaturity is my middle name.
Oh, the homeschoolers among you may want to read my essay Winter Doldrums, which appeared in the current issue of Home Education Magazine. Or maybe not.
Larry went jogging today. He exercises on all federal holidays, whether he needs it or not. That's a joke. I thought it was funny. Larry didn't. I told him he could make fun of my Weight Watchers recidivism, just to get even; but he was still mad. So I got mad that he was mad. Things went downhill from there.
Some days, "until death do us part" seems like a really long time.
And would you believe, he still wanted to hang up pictures together today? Is he trying to finish us off, or what? Why doesn't he just call the divorce lawyer and be done with it? I ignored him, so he hung up all that crap where he felt like it. And tomorrow, when he goes to work, I may just take the ugly things down. Because immaturity is my middle name.
Oh, the homeschoolers among you may want to read my essay Winter Doldrums, which appeared in the current issue of Home Education Magazine. Or maybe not.
Friday, February 08, 2008
*Knit, Purl, Roll The Dice*
Okay, today I was tempted to do a title, but no post. Get it? The opposite of yesterday? I am too clever...
I hosted the homeschool clubs again today, but I was ready for them this time. One of the mothers brought her new baby, who just happened to be attired in an EZ Baby Surprise Jacket (collective gasp from all you knitters who appreciate the serendipity of this occurrence) that she had made herself (double gasp). In other words, I have a new friend (and she isn't even imaginary).
Being a typical knitter, she immediately offered to talk me through the creation of a BSJ; in the same breath she insisted that I learn Fair Isle too (I was admiring the baby's hat). And, since she also homeschools, we'll get to knit and talk about home education curricula at the same time. Life doesn't get any better than that.
I played Yahtzee with David and Rachel after I put the baby to bed this evening. (I am making sure to mention this here so that you all know that I am not always mean to my children.) I was shocked when Larry offered to play, too. Then he was insulted that I was shocked. It's just that he rarely plays games with us, and when he does, he never gets very excited about what we are playing. He doesn't jump up and down and shout when he rolls a large straight, and he never offers a running color commentary on the game. I mean, what's the point in playing if you're just going to sit there and roll dice?
He was raised as an only child, sort of (his siblings are much older than him), so maybe he just can't understand the thrill of intrafamily competition. Those formative years are so important.
Sleep is important, too; and Larry is starting to grumble about my never going to bed until midnight lately. It's just that sitting up in a quiet house is so peaceful....I never want it to end.
What do y'all get your husbands for Valentine's Day? I mean, that you can talk about on a G-rated blog?
I hosted the homeschool clubs again today, but I was ready for them this time. One of the mothers brought her new baby, who just happened to be attired in an EZ Baby Surprise Jacket (collective gasp from all you knitters who appreciate the serendipity of this occurrence) that she had made herself (double gasp). In other words, I have a new friend (and she isn't even imaginary).
Being a typical knitter, she immediately offered to talk me through the creation of a BSJ; in the same breath she insisted that I learn Fair Isle too (I was admiring the baby's hat). And, since she also homeschools, we'll get to knit and talk about home education curricula at the same time. Life doesn't get any better than that.
I played Yahtzee with David and Rachel after I put the baby to bed this evening. (I am making sure to mention this here so that you all know that I am not always mean to my children.) I was shocked when Larry offered to play, too. Then he was insulted that I was shocked. It's just that he rarely plays games with us, and when he does, he never gets very excited about what we are playing. He doesn't jump up and down and shout when he rolls a large straight, and he never offers a running color commentary on the game. I mean, what's the point in playing if you're just going to sit there and roll dice?
He was raised as an only child, sort of (his siblings are much older than him), so maybe he just can't understand the thrill of intrafamily competition. Those formative years are so important.
Sleep is important, too; and Larry is starting to grumble about my never going to bed until midnight lately. It's just that sitting up in a quiet house is so peaceful....I never want it to end.
What do y'all get your husbands for Valentine's Day? I mean, that you can talk about on a G-rated blog?
Monday, January 28, 2008
Children? I Don't Hear Any Children...
Larry (aka Mr. Security) has managed to load enough "protection" onto our new computer to make it almost as slow as the behemoth I was typing away on previously. You'd think, if he really wanted me to spend less time on this thing, that he would see the error of his ways, wouldn't you? Alas, I'm once again stuck watching pages load at a glacial pace; but virus-free, of course. And on a bigger screen.
As I type, Brian is indulging in one of those irritating, drawn-out whines that make the sound of fingernails on a blackboard pleasant by comparison. I cannot see the use of whining, evolutionarily speaking. It most definitely doesn't encourage the continuation of the species. Perhaps my children are a Darwinian dead end.
Dear Lord, don't let me kill him.
In other, more pleasant, child-related news, Lego's are 50 years old today. I heard on the news this evening that there are enough Lego bricks for each person on Earth to have 62 of them apiece. So, I am asking all the people who have obviously left their share in our living room to please come pick them up. Thank you.
Can you even imagine a world without Lego's? Do you realize this news means that, prior to 1958, parents had not only precious little in the way of TV to entertain their children, but also no decent toys either? What the heck did kids do? Play with sticks? Outside? All the time? Did parents back then simply shove them out the back door in the morning and slide the lock? And how many question marks can I put in one paragraph?
Brian is still whining. Say what you like, that kid has endurance.
Is there anyone else out there who cannot stand their children in the evening? I'm fine (well, I guess that may be debatable) until approximately 7:30 PM, when I suddenly realize that I have to share my entire life with these creatures and I cannot take it anymore. The whining, the nose-picking, the tattling, the Berenstain Bear books - everything becomes intolerable. So, I send them all to bed. The teenagers probably resent that a little, but tough. They need lots of sleep, anyway.
Let's not talk about kids anymore. Let's talk about knitting. So much more soothing....I'm knitting a scarf (the mistake-rib pattern from this post of Crazy Aunt Purl). Only I'm using size 13 needles. She must be a tighter knitter than I am. This is a very exciting project because I am using my brand new circular-needles kit (yes, I know you don't need circulars for a scarf; but I didn't own size 13's, which deficiency provided me with the perfect excuse to buy needles and I, um, sort of got carried away). Now I have a fun little carry-case out of which, on the merest whim, I can whip out a pair of any-size needles (from 2-15) and various size cables to connect them. I am knitter, hear me roar....
Pardon my exuberance, but knitting purchases are just so exhilarating. Better even than homeschool curricula purchases...I guess because knitting purchases don't involve children who may not want to cooperate with your plans to teach them 3 foreign languages before they are 12 years old. Knitting is just for me. Me, me, me, me, me.......
Hmmm....now I'm sounding like my 2-year-old. Maybe because Larry ("Aren't we paying 40 bucks a month for Weight Watchers?") won't let me have any more Twix bars. Even though I have 5 activity points to use up before my weigh-in tomorrow....isn't he mean?
As I type, Brian is indulging in one of those irritating, drawn-out whines that make the sound of fingernails on a blackboard pleasant by comparison. I cannot see the use of whining, evolutionarily speaking. It most definitely doesn't encourage the continuation of the species. Perhaps my children are a Darwinian dead end.
Dear Lord, don't let me kill him.
In other, more pleasant, child-related news, Lego's are 50 years old today. I heard on the news this evening that there are enough Lego bricks for each person on Earth to have 62 of them apiece. So, I am asking all the people who have obviously left their share in our living room to please come pick them up. Thank you.
Can you even imagine a world without Lego's? Do you realize this news means that, prior to 1958, parents had not only precious little in the way of TV to entertain their children, but also no decent toys either? What the heck did kids do? Play with sticks? Outside? All the time? Did parents back then simply shove them out the back door in the morning and slide the lock? And how many question marks can I put in one paragraph?
Brian is still whining. Say what you like, that kid has endurance.
Is there anyone else out there who cannot stand their children in the evening? I'm fine (well, I guess that may be debatable) until approximately 7:30 PM, when I suddenly realize that I have to share my entire life with these creatures and I cannot take it anymore. The whining, the nose-picking, the tattling, the Berenstain Bear books - everything becomes intolerable. So, I send them all to bed. The teenagers probably resent that a little, but tough. They need lots of sleep, anyway.
Let's not talk about kids anymore. Let's talk about knitting. So much more soothing....I'm knitting a scarf (the mistake-rib pattern from this post of Crazy Aunt Purl). Only I'm using size 13 needles. She must be a tighter knitter than I am. This is a very exciting project because I am using my brand new circular-needles kit (yes, I know you don't need circulars for a scarf; but I didn't own size 13's, which deficiency provided me with the perfect excuse to buy needles and I, um, sort of got carried away). Now I have a fun little carry-case out of which, on the merest whim, I can whip out a pair of any-size needles (from 2-15) and various size cables to connect them. I am knitter, hear me roar....
Pardon my exuberance, but knitting purchases are just so exhilarating. Better even than homeschool curricula purchases...I guess because knitting purchases don't involve children who may not want to cooperate with your plans to teach them 3 foreign languages before they are 12 years old. Knitting is just for me. Me, me, me, me, me.......
Hmmm....now I'm sounding like my 2-year-old. Maybe because Larry ("Aren't we paying 40 bucks a month for Weight Watchers?") won't let me have any more Twix bars. Even though I have 5 activity points to use up before my weigh-in tomorrow....isn't he mean?
Monday, December 31, 2007
Learning All The Time
Okay, so I finally convinced Larry that the USB ports on the monitor aren't working and he was nice enough to find another port to plug the MP3 player into... and it worked! I figured out how to get into ITunes and find my podcast (Garrison Keillor, natch) and download it to my computer; and then I even moved it to the player (I think I did, anyway - Theo didn't actually listen to the player to make sure, mostly because we don't know how to use it yet and now I have to locate the missing earbuds).
I'm thinking there might be a way to download podcasts directly from ITunes to my player(?), but I can't figure it out. (That was a not-very-cleverly disguised plea for technical assistance.)
Some people have e-mailed me and asked why the fact that I am homeschooling 6 children does not figure prominently on this blog. I don't know. Mostly because this started out as a family newsletter; and, believe me, the less I brought up the homeschooling thing, the better. Plus, there's not that much to write about home education for "outsiders." We goof off a lot. We go to the library frequently. I bribe the kids with food to do their math pages. (I know David is going to be very disappointed at engineering school when no one offers him candy for a finished problem set.)
And the high schoolers? Well, the dirty little secret of the homeschooling community is that homeschooling ceases to be tons of fun once you hit those upper grades. There's stuff you have to do, whether it's inspiring or not, just so the kids don't end up with careers driving those Port-A-Potty trucks, you know? (Not that there's anything wrong with that...) My older ones do an online accredited curriculum so that I don't lie awake nights worrying that I am ruining their lives. Instead, I lie awake worrying that all the other home-schooled teens are having more fun with high school than we are.
Any homeschooling moms with high schoolers having fun out there? I'd love to hear from you - drop me a line (or a comment). Thanks!
And a very Happy New Year to all! I'm looking forward to this coming year, simply because I know that we won't be moving anywhere. Low expectations, folks, that's what it is all about....especially at humor-blogs.com
I'm thinking there might be a way to download podcasts directly from ITunes to my player(?), but I can't figure it out. (That was a not-very-cleverly disguised plea for technical assistance.)
Some people have e-mailed me and asked why the fact that I am homeschooling 6 children does not figure prominently on this blog. I don't know. Mostly because this started out as a family newsletter; and, believe me, the less I brought up the homeschooling thing, the better. Plus, there's not that much to write about home education for "outsiders." We goof off a lot. We go to the library frequently. I bribe the kids with food to do their math pages. (I know David is going to be very disappointed at engineering school when no one offers him candy for a finished problem set.)
And the high schoolers? Well, the dirty little secret of the homeschooling community is that homeschooling ceases to be tons of fun once you hit those upper grades. There's stuff you have to do, whether it's inspiring or not, just so the kids don't end up with careers driving those Port-A-Potty trucks, you know? (Not that there's anything wrong with that...) My older ones do an online accredited curriculum so that I don't lie awake nights worrying that I am ruining their lives. Instead, I lie awake worrying that all the other home-schooled teens are having more fun with high school than we are.
Any homeschooling moms with high schoolers having fun out there? I'd love to hear from you - drop me a line (or a comment). Thanks!
And a very Happy New Year to all! I'm looking forward to this coming year, simply because I know that we won't be moving anywhere. Low expectations, folks, that's what it is all about....especially at humor-blogs.com
Saturday, December 29, 2007
Paint Fume Musings
Larry's painting! Boy, do I owe him big. And don't think he doesn't know it.
Did I announce that we caught Mickey? No? We did. No more poop in the silverware drawer, which makes me very happy. That, and I still have chocolate left. Not Raisinets, though - I've lost my taste for any candy resembling little turds.
I sat at the ice rink and knitted while Anna skated with some friends this evening. I just want that fact on record, for when Anna accuses me of never letting her do anything fun. The rink itself was dark with strobe lights going and loud, discordant music playing. I sat out in the lobby and observed all the girls dressed like sluts flirting with all the boys dressed like bums. I came home feeling about 80 years old. Was I ever that young?
Monthly trip to the commissary today. I managed to keep it under 500 dollars. I'm going to spend the rest of my money at Barnes and Noble tomorrow, while Theo's employee discount is still valid. 30 percent - I'm the envy of all my homeschooling friends. When I told them about the discount, they oohed and aahed as if I were flashing a brand new diamond ring. You've got to love friends like that. Well, I do, anyway.
Larry's still painting. He likes spending his vacation days this way. I mean, if he can't spend them tearing up flooring or insulating the attic. Or re-installing the front railings. Or any of the other tasks he's had to undertake as a result of thinking, last spring, "Wouldn't it be a good idea to move into another fixer-upper?"
Maybe he should have listened to me when I said, "No, it wouldn't." But at least he can't blame me for getting him into this situation. My conscience is clear.
I'm about to pass out from paint fumes. Gotta go.
Did I announce that we caught Mickey? No? We did. No more poop in the silverware drawer, which makes me very happy. That, and I still have chocolate left. Not Raisinets, though - I've lost my taste for any candy resembling little turds.
I sat at the ice rink and knitted while Anna skated with some friends this evening. I just want that fact on record, for when Anna accuses me of never letting her do anything fun. The rink itself was dark with strobe lights going and loud, discordant music playing. I sat out in the lobby and observed all the girls dressed like sluts flirting with all the boys dressed like bums. I came home feeling about 80 years old. Was I ever that young?
Monthly trip to the commissary today. I managed to keep it under 500 dollars. I'm going to spend the rest of my money at Barnes and Noble tomorrow, while Theo's employee discount is still valid. 30 percent - I'm the envy of all my homeschooling friends. When I told them about the discount, they oohed and aahed as if I were flashing a brand new diamond ring. You've got to love friends like that. Well, I do, anyway.
Larry's still painting. He likes spending his vacation days this way. I mean, if he can't spend them tearing up flooring or insulating the attic. Or re-installing the front railings. Or any of the other tasks he's had to undertake as a result of thinking, last spring, "Wouldn't it be a good idea to move into another fixer-upper?"
Maybe he should have listened to me when I said, "No, it wouldn't." But at least he can't blame me for getting him into this situation. My conscience is clear.
I'm about to pass out from paint fumes. Gotta go.
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Cocktails and Witchcraft
I just saw a promo photo for Charlie Wilson's War and all I can say is, what happened to Tom Hanks? Does he really look that way now, or is it just make-up? Granted, I'm a bit behind on movies and my reference point for Tom is about 20 years ago (I'm thinking Volunteers or Big); but still.....
This evening Larry and I actually got to act the way I thought all grown-ups acted, back when I was a kid - we went out to a cocktail party. I got dressed up and everything. There were lots of other grown-ups there, so I did my best to sound intelligent and talk about something other than housework or laundry; but once I ended up in a room with a bunch of other home school moms, our conversation veered to comparing math programs and chemistry textbooks more quickly than you can say "curricula obsession." It's an occupational hazard.
We also spent a disproportionate amount of time talking about Santa. Don't ask me why. I got bored at that point and decided to hang out by the dessert table.
We left the kids watching Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. It was Susie's first time, but apparently she wasn't traumatized by the Abominable Snow Monster. When I was a kid, I was terrified of that thing. I was very impressionable, I guess. Or stupid.
Theo had a brush with the occult today at work. A woman came up to the register with a stack of books, all bearing titles such as Wicca and Witchcraft for Dummies and Mind Control: The Ancient Art of Psychological Warfare and Necromancy Made Easy. When Theo inquired after the nature of her reading material, she claimed that her husband never listens to her and she was going to fix that. Because the books were cheaper than a divorce.
Hell indeed hath no fury like a woman scorned.
Well, it is almost midnight. God rest ye, merry gentlemen and ladies all!
This evening Larry and I actually got to act the way I thought all grown-ups acted, back when I was a kid - we went out to a cocktail party. I got dressed up and everything. There were lots of other grown-ups there, so I did my best to sound intelligent and talk about something other than housework or laundry; but once I ended up in a room with a bunch of other home school moms, our conversation veered to comparing math programs and chemistry textbooks more quickly than you can say "curricula obsession." It's an occupational hazard.
We also spent a disproportionate amount of time talking about Santa. Don't ask me why. I got bored at that point and decided to hang out by the dessert table.
We left the kids watching Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. It was Susie's first time, but apparently she wasn't traumatized by the Abominable Snow Monster. When I was a kid, I was terrified of that thing. I was very impressionable, I guess. Or stupid.
Theo had a brush with the occult today at work. A woman came up to the register with a stack of books, all bearing titles such as Wicca and Witchcraft for Dummies and Mind Control: The Ancient Art of Psychological Warfare and Necromancy Made Easy. When Theo inquired after the nature of her reading material, she claimed that her husband never listens to her and she was going to fix that. Because the books were cheaper than a divorce.
Hell indeed hath no fury like a woman scorned.
Well, it is almost midnight. God rest ye, merry gentlemen and ladies all!
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